


Daybreak

by Zillywai



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Readerfic, Sloppy Makeouts, Sopor Slime, Tentabulges, awkward tentaboners, human!reader, what are quadrants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 04:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3161621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillywai/pseuds/Zillywai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only a few hours left until dawn.  The deep purple of the sky sports a pale rosy glow at the skyline, echoed on the edges of the few wispy clouds that drift by.  Glinting with the last dregs of pink Alternian moonlight, the waves lap quietly against the shore.  You watch them roll in, enjoying the view of the ocean in the near-morning twilight.  There’s a light breeze coming in over the water, bringing with it a faint chill and the smell of brine.</p><p>“Man, it’s just so motherfuckin’ pretty before the sun all gets up and rises.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daybreak

There are only a few hours left until dawn.  The deep purple of the sky sports a pale rosy glow at the skyline, echoed on the edges of the few wispy clouds that drift by.  Glinting with the last dregs of pink Alternian moonlight, the waves lap quietly against the shore.  You watch them roll in, enjoying the view of the ocean in the near-morning twilight.  There’s a light breeze coming in over the water, bringing with it a faint chill and the smell of brine.

“Man, it’s just so motherfuckin’ pretty before the sun all gets up and rises.” Gamzee sighs reverently from beside you.  He’s been silent for the past few minutes, engrossed in the movement of the waves, and when you hear him finally speak you turn towards him and smile.  His lean, painted face grins back at you sleepily as he reaches for the half-emptied bottle of grape Faygo sitting in the sand between the both of you.  There’s a hiss as he twists off the cap, and he laughs, holding his index finger up to the bottle as though to try and quiet it. 

“Shoosh. Fuckin’ hissing like that…” Gamzee shakes his head and takes a few gulps of soda, before holding up the foil tin filled with lime-green liquid that was previously nestled in his lap.  “Sure you ain’t up for splittin’ the rest of this slime?”

You decline.  Really, you need to get back home before it gets light, and getting slimed probably isn’t the best idea with that in mind.  The purple-blooded troll chuckles, shrugging and re-capping the bottle of Faygo before dipping the long fingers of his free hand into the gel. 

“That’s chill. Figure that means there’s being plenty more for me.” Carefully, Gamzee scoops out a blob of sopor and deposits it in his mouth.  You can’t help but watch as he licks the green liquid from his fingers one at a time.  His tongue is long, definitely longer than most humans', smooth and purple-grey.  It's almost mesmerising to see the way it curls between his digits to lap up any drops of sopor that have trickled through.

For a while, you sit and talk.  Gamzee makes swift work of most of the tin's contents as you do, nodding and murmuring his interest as he sucks daubs of slime from his fingers.  The sky grows lighter still, the pink blush on the horizon growing more evident as the minutes pass, but you know you've still got ample time to sit around before leaving becomes in any way urgent.  Gamzee yawns, a catlike display of pointed white teeth and curled grey tongue, then lies back on the sand.  He reaches across towards you and prods your hip.

“Does a motherfucker want to get all down here too?”

 You lie down as well, but the troll laughs.

“Aw, all the way over there? I was thinkin' all like...”

Gamzee holds out a gangly arm in invitation and you shuffle closer to him, letting his arm support your neck until you realise it's really not comfortable enough, and you shift to let him cradle your head against his chest.  Lying there, the soft cotton of his shirt under your cheek, you listen to the waves and the unhurried  _whoosh-thud_  of Gamzee's highblood heart. You can smell the powerful sugary tang of the green slime on his breath. It's quite surprising how pleasant the troll is to rest on, less bony than he appears, although the fact that very little warmth radiates from his skin feels very alien, almost unnatural.  However, it's no problem - the sea breeze has grown more temperate with the approaching dawn and you're far from cold.

“Wanna get some makeouts in before you up and gotta go back hive-ways?”

The question is presented so off-handedly, as though you're his matesprit and making out is something he proposes on a regular basis, rather than this being the first time he's ever so much as mentioned anything of the sort.  You look up at him to see that his face sports an earnest grin - he's not joking with you.  Whether this counts as a confession of flushed feelings or something less serious, or even if it's just the slime talking, you can't tell, but you accept Gamzee's unexpected offer.

With your permission gained, the troll shifts so your head is no longer resting on him, gently he lies you down on the sand.  He leans over you, chuckling softly as his nose bumps awkwardly against yours.  Then he angles his head, and your mouth is pressed to his.  His inky-black lips are rough, faintly sticky with sopor.  As they move, you find them to be a little out of sync with your own, but for all the lack of expertise in his technique it’s still far from unpleasant.  There’s a delightful gentleness, almost tenderness, to the way he kisses you, and you can feel him smiling a little against your mouth.  He wraps an arm around you and you roll so that you're lying facing one another, his long fingers tracing down the back of your neck in long, rhythmic strokes.

Soon he begins to kiss you more eagerly, his hand sliding away from your nape to the small of your back so he can pull your body closer to his.  You can hear a quiet rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest reverberating through him, a low, contented purr.  Inquisitively, the tip of his tongue flicks against your lips, and when you yield to it you taste sopor, strong and sweet and just as overwhelmingly heady as it smells.  It would be no surprise if simply kissing this troll would be enough to get high on.

When he tries to suck your lower lip into his mouth, his sharp teeth nick you and it stings.  You flinch a little at the unexpected pain and the faint taste of blood mingles with the potent flavour of the sopor.

“Fuck, sorry.” He mutters apologetically against your mouth, letting go and pressing tiny closed-lipped kisses to the place his fangs caught you.  As though he needs to focus, he takes a deep breath before returning to kissing you, this time taking great care not to let his teeth catch you when he attempts again to take your lip between his.  His fingers caress your cheek and behind the shell of your ear, his other hand exploring your back.  You can feel his hand against your bare skin - he's managed to slip it under your clothing, and your skin seems to tingle and buzz in the wake of his cool fingers as they brush over you.

Gamzee's rough lips leave yours to trail their way across your cheek and down to your neck. With all the same strange dexterity as when he licked the sopor from his hands, the troll's tongue lathes over your skin in cool strokes, each sending your body thrumming and making you feel more and more at a loss for air.  Your breathing stutters when you feel the faint nudge of his bulge unsheathing against your hip.  Within moments you can feel the whole slim length of it undulating lazily, pressed between your bodies.  Gamzee pulls away from you, panting breathlessly, and looks at you with an expression that is of equal parts embarrassment and hopeful query.  He smiles awkwardly and opens his mouth to speak, but then his eyes flit briefly away from yours to the skyline and his heavy-lidded eyes widen. 

Your gaze follows his.  The sun has started to threaten on the horizon, a bright glaring halo that rims the bottom of the sky with burning white.  Not wanting to face the danger of harsh Alternian daylight, both of you jump to your feet and hurry back across the sand to his hive.  Once inside, you make quick work together of covering the windows to block out the approaching daylight.  You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass, and see your face marked with smudges of white and grey.  As you you rub away the paint and brush sand from your clothes and hair, Gamzee eyes you sheepishly.  Sopor drips onto the floor from the tray he's holding over the squirming front of his baggy polka-dotted pants.

“Aw man, I didn't mean to keep us up so motherfuckin' late. Like you can’t be making it to your hive with the sun up like it's gone and being… I, uh, is your lusus gonna be chill if you gotta stay over and shit?”

When you explain that your 'lusus' will probably be fine with it, and will have to be, the troll visibly relaxes. Fumbling with the tray that has now almost entirely emptied itself onto the grey tiles, he looks at you and flashes you an endearingly flustered smile that you can't help but return.

“A brother's still up for picking up all what was going down, if you motherfuckin' want it?” he says, slowly, like he's not entirely sure what you're going to think of the suggestion, whether you're going to mind.

You personally don't think you're going to mind staying over at all.

 


End file.
